New JAG in Town
by Generalissimo
Summary: Part: 2. Mac and Stark are sent to investigate a murder
1. New Arrival

New JAG in town 

Disclaimer: I do not own JAG, as cool as that would be. Commander David Stark, however is my creation.

Summary: The team gets new officer. This chapter is solely an introduction for the new character. Feedback is appreciated.

Note: I took some creative liscense. Loren Singer _is_ dead, but Paraguay never happened, thus Harm and Mac are still friends, and Mac and Clay are not in a relationship.

Additional note: This is a retype. I am in fact Canadian and didn't find out until later that JFK airport is in New York. Thank you to Karen19, whoever you are, for pointing that out. As such I have changed the airport to Dulles. Thank you for your patience. I resolve to do better research in the future.

JAG HQ

Falls Church, VA

1000 hrs local

"As you were." Admiral Chegwidden ordered as he entered the conference room. Lt. Bud Roberts, Commander Sturgis Turner, Commander Harmon Rabb and Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie sat in their chairs.

The Admiral adjusted his reading glasses. "Okay, first item of business, as per the officer exchange program, we are once again getting another new attorney."

"Australia sending us one of their finest again, sir?" Harm asked in tone that only slightly belied the sarcasm behind the remark.

Chegwidden ignored it, "No, this one is Canadian. Their Navy has sent us a 'Commander David Stark.' He'll be arriving atDulles International Airport this afternoon. Do have any volunteers to meet the new Commander?"

"Sir, my schedule is clear." Mac offered.

Chegwidden nodded, "Very well then, Colonel. Commander Stark's plane arrives in two hours."

He looked over the files in front of him. "Next item of business."

1100 hrs

"Hey." Mac stuck her head through the Harm's open doorway. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm headed out."

Harm looked up from the file on his desk. "Ah, to greet our new resident Canadian. Just be careful Mac."

"Of what?" Mac asked incredulous.

"Well lets look the facts. The last time we had an exchange officer, you went to pick him up and in two years you were engaged to him."

Being reminded of her engagement to Brumby left a bitter taste in Mac's mouth, but she didn't show it.

"What makes you so sure history will repeat itself?" She asked.

"Because it so often does." He replied.

Mac rolled her eyes. "Whatever. I'll see you later."

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Dulles International Airport 

1200 hrs

The terminal was buzzing activity. Mac stood in front of the gate as the passengers from Air Canada Flight 109 arrived. Finally she saw a man in a Canadian uniform exit the gate with a gym bag slung over his shoulder. Mac took a moment to look the man over. He was tall, at least as tall as Harm. His hair was short and dark brown. He wore glasses, which seemed to have slid halfway down his nose. Despite his tall stature, he was rather thin looking and lacked the muscular build that one associated with the military.

He stood in front of the gate and looked around. Suddenly he caught sight of her and he smiled. He walked hurriedly over to her, dropped his bag and snapped to attention, in the Canadian fashion; and saluted.

"Colonel," he said, offering his hand, "I take it you're my ride. Commander David Stark of the RCN at your service."

Mac shook his hand. "I'm Lt. Col. Sarah Mackenzie, I've been instructed to escort you to JAG to meet with Admiral AJ Chegwidden."

"That's great Colonel. Let me just get my luggage and we can go."

Mac smiled, "As long as we're going to be working together, you might as well call me Mac."

Stark returned her smile with one of his own, "In that case, call me David."

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It only took a few minutes to get the suitcase that Stark had brought with him.

"Everything else is being shipped over in two days." He explained, "Till then, I brought a few necessities."

When they arrived at Mac's car, Stark laid his suitcase down and opened it.

"There's something I wanted to check."

Mac looked on as Stark dug under the clothes and toiletries in his case and removed a cigar box from the bottom of the case.

"I thought you were only bringing necessities."

"These are necessities." Stark told her.

He flipped the top open.

"Thank God. They survived the trip."

Mac laughed, until she caught sight of the ring label on the cigars in the box.

"Cohibas. Those are Cuban."

"Yep." Stark stuck the box back into the suitcase and put the case into the trunk. He walked over to the passenger door and got in the car. Mac sat down in the driver seat and looked at him intently. "They're illegal."

Stark smiled, "I prefer to think of it as an act of sedition against an outdated policy, based on unwarranted ignorance and fear."

"What, are you going to tell me you're a Castro supporter?"

Stark paused and appeared to be considering the question, "Well, Canada has always had a very favourable relationship with the Castro government. Who am I to object? I mean lets give credit where credit is due. He did drive back the South African invasion of Angola, and help to bring about the end of Apartheid. Besides, my theory is that the Americans are just jealous because their beer and cigars are inferior to Cuban rum and cigars."

Mac rolled her eyes.

"What, are you going to tell on me?" Stark joked.

"I should confiscate them."

Stark smiled, "Should. Meaning that you won't."

"Awfully sure of yourself aren't you?" Mac asked, as she started the engine.

Stark chuckled, "I try."

"So where to?" Mac wanted to know. She assumed that she would be taking him to whatever apartment he had arranged. Stark looked at his watch.

"Well. If I'm going to be working a round here, I might as well see what I'm working with."

"Well I'll take you to Headquarters then. But what about your bags?"

Stark shrugged, "I'll just keep them with me."

"What if someone discovers your 'stash'?" Mac joked.

"Well it depends on whether it's a man or a woman who discovers it."

"What does that mean?"

"Well its simple. All I have to do is offer to share and not only will that get me out of the hot seat, but I'll have made yet another friend for life."

Mac laughed, "What if it doesn't work?"

"Hasn't failed me yet. Like I said, Colonel, that trade embargo of yours is outdated and everybody knows it."

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JAG HQ

Falls Church, VA

0100 hrs

"Nice digs." Stark looked at the front entrance appreciatively. He removed his suitcase and duffel bag from the trunk of Mac's car and followed her to the door. They caught the elevator and walked down the hall to the bullpen. Mac led down another hallway.

"We've set you up in an office just over here. You can leave your bags inside and then we can report to the Admiral."

Stark walked through the door and looked around appraisingly at the office, which was empty except for a desk, chair and file cabinet.

"It's kind of small, but it's better than some of the other places I've been in. When I was sent as acting military legal attaché to the Canadian embassy in Moscow, they had to stick me in the janitor's closet."

"You were in Russia?" Mac asked.

"Yep. Had a lot of fun there. Of course it helps if you speak the language."

"So you speak Russian?" Mac asked in Russian.

Stark raised his eyebrows and responded in Russian, "Yes, I do. And so, as it appears, do you Colonel."

Mac smiled an amused smile and reverted back to English, "We should report to the Admiral."

The two officers walked across the bullpen an into the Admiral's exterior office, where Petty Officer Coates was sitting at her desk. She rose from her seat.

Mac gestured towards her, "Commander David Stark, meet the Admiral's yeoman, Petty Officer Jennifer Coates."

Stark gave Coates a charming smile and shook her hand.

"A pleasure," He said, "It's always good to know the person acting as the oil that keeps the machine running."

Coates just smiled.

Stark went on, giving both Mac and Coates a conspiratorial look, "You know, people say that the officers are the ones who run the show; but those of us, who actually have spent some time in the enlisted ranks, we know what the score is, don't we?"

Coates laughed, "Yes sir." She composed herself and continues, "The Admiral will be able to see you sir, Commander Rabb is already inside."

Coates opened the door and announced them. Mac and Stark entered the room and moved to stand next to Harm, who was receiving information about a case. Stark snapped to attention with a loud bang as his heel struck the ground.

"Commander David Stark, Royal Canadian Navy, reporting for duty, sir."

Admiral Chegwidden sat still for a moment, appearing to be sizing up the man in front of him. He reached for a file on the right side of his desk, opened it and began reading:

"David Stark, thirty-seven, attended Simon Fraser university, undergraduate degree in political science. Enlisted in the navy at age twenty-three. Became an officer at age twenty-seven. Graduated law school at McGill University."

Stark smiled proudly, "Fourth in my class, sir."

Chegwidden nodded and went on, "Served as Legal attaché to HCMS Halifax, acting military legal attaché to Canadian embassy in Moscow. Currently stationed, Judge Advocate's office, Ottawa. Reprimanded by senior officers for attending several anti Iraq war rallies, while in uniform and for writing several articles against the Iraq war and the PATRIOT act." Chegwidden removed his reading glasses, "Something about us you don't like, Mr. Stark?"

Stark sighed, he had been expecting something like this. "Permission to speak freely and rather candidly sir?"

Chegwidden nodded, "Granted."

"No one was more surprised about me getting this assignment, than I, sir. I have nothing against Americans as a people or a country; but I also believe in calling a spade a spade, and policies such as the PATRIOT act go against everything I believe in. Am I outspoken? Yes. Has it gotten me into trouble? Yes. But I'm a good attorney and I have never allowed my politics affect my ability to do my job. I can only offer you my assurance that I can put aside my personal feelings during my time here. If that isn't enough for you, sir, then I suggest that you put me on the next plane back to Ottawa, sir."

Chegwidden was impressed, though he didn't show it. He knew it took guts to say something like that with conviction. Chegwidden allowed a ghost of a smile. He liked someone with guts. He rose from his chair.

"That won't be necessary. Welcome aboard Commander." He said.

Stark seemed to visibly relax.

"That's all for now. We'll no doubt have an assignment for you shortly. Till then, we'll have someone give you the guided tour," The Admiral stood up from his desk and bellowed, "Coates!"

PO Coates calmly entered the office. "Sir?"

"Petty Officer, I'd like you to…"

"I'll give Commander Stark a tour of the office right away sir." Coates interrupted.

The Admiral sighed, slightly annoyed, "Thank you, Petty Officer. Have you man…"

"Managed to track down the Henderson Report?" Coates interrupted again, "Yes sir, it's on your desk."

Harm quirked an eyebrow in amusement, Mac managed to stop a smile from spreading across her face, while Stark was biting his lip, desperately trying not to release the howling laughter that was threatening to erupt.

The Admiral only sighed and sat back down with a light, "Dismissed."

After everyone had left the office, Jen excused herself saying that she needed to grab a file before she started the tour. It was at this time, that Mac made introductions for Harm and Stark.

"Commander Harmon Rabb, meet Commander David Stark."

Harm extended his hand, "Call me Harm."

Stark shook it, "David."

Stark took a quick glance in Jen's direction.

"Tell me, does she always do that? Finishing the Admiral's sentences I mean."

Harm smiled, "It happens on occasion."

The subject of their conversation reappeared and Stark left to begin his tour. Harm turned to Mac and folded his arms across his chest. "So, what do you make of him Mac?"

"What do you think?" She asked back.

"Well I don't know how much trial experience he's had; but if he uses the same brass, that he just showed the Admiral, in court, then he'll be a hell of an opponent. You drove up with him Mac. Did you learn anything?"

"Well he has the same disrespect for the Cuban trade embargo that a certain commander I know used to have."

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The tour ended back at Stark's office, where he found a substantial pile of cases awaiting review.

"Guess I'm starting at the bottom, working my way up."

Jen laughed. "I better go, sir."

Stark nodded, "Yeah. Hey, Coates. Do you knowthat you and the Admiral have a Colonel Potter/Radar O'Reilly thing going on?"

"Sir?" Jen looked puzzled.

Stark stared at her for a minute, then he rolled his eyes, "What kind of backward place have I come to?" he muttered. "Don't tell me you've never seen MASH, Petty Officer."

Jen shook her head.

Stark snorted, "Do yourself a favour: see it. Then you'll know what I mean."

Jen nodded, "Goodbye sir."

"See you, later." Stark called, "Radar." He added under his breath. Stark walked over to his duffel bag and removed a cigar from one of the boxes in his bag. Stuffing it in his shirt pocket, he sat down at his desk and smiled as he reached for the first fileon his desk. Yep he was going to like it here.


	2. The Empty Office

The Empty Office

Summary: Mac and David Stark are sent to investigate a seemingly impossilbe murder

Note: I chose Alameda Naval Air Station at random from a list of US Navy installations. I know nothing about said base or its layout.

Alameda Naval Air Station

Alameda, California

2300 hrs, Local

Lt. Alexander Carlson walked down the hall of the Command Post, the sharp sound of the heel of his shoes breaching the silence of the darkened corridor. He turned the corner and walked across the typing pool into the CO's exterior office.

Petty Officer Janice Lynch got up from her desk and stood at attention. "Sir, what can I do for you?"

Lt. Carlson waved dismissively, "At ease, Petty Officer. I just need to deliver a file to the Captain. Is he in?"

PO Lynch smiled, "Of course, sir. You know the Captain."

Lt. Carlson allowed a ghost of a smile. Captain Reeves was a textbook workaholic.

PO Lynch activated the intercom. "Sir, Lt. Carlson is here to see you."

At that moment a loud scream, sounding like the wail of dying animal, could be heard through the oak door. Panicked, both Lt. Carlson and PO Lynch dashed over to the door. They tried to open it, but found it to be locked.

"What do we do?" PO Lynch asked.

Lt. Carlson frantically looked around for something, anything to break the door down with. His eyes settled on the ax for fire emergencies that was hanging on the wall. "There." He shouted, pointing.

Lt. Carlson removed the ax from its case and brought down against the door, with a mighty swing. He continued until he had successfully chopped away enough of the door. The two of them rushed through the opening. A few feet away from the entrance was Captain Reeves sitting in his chair, lying across his desk, a knife sitting squarely in his back.

PO Lynch let out a scream.

"What's going on here?" A voice demanded. Lt. Carlson and PO Lynch turned to see the base Executive Officer Lt. Commander Ralph Haines standing in the now destroyed doorway. Lt. Carlson gestured helplessly towards the Captain's dead body. Lt. Commander Haines' paled, his eyes widened in shock.

"Good God, somebody call the MPs!"

JAG HQ

Falls Church, VA

0800 hrs local

1 day after Cmdr. Stark's arrival

Lt. Harriet Sims was looking over the papers on her desk in the bullpen, when she noticed an officer that she had never seen before walk into the bullpen. This in itself wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that, from his uniform, it was obvious that this man wasn't any American military organization. The officer, who looked like he would faint from exhaustion at any moment, was looking around as if searching for something or someone. Ever the helper, Harriet decided to approach the newcomer.

Stark walked, no stumbled was a better word, into the bullpen. He removed his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes. Stark had spent the entire night and some of the morning setting up his apartment, with what little of his personal belongings had actually arrived. On top of that, jet lag, even though he had only flown in from Ottawa, had taken its toll. The only thing that was keeping him going at this moment was the thought of coffee and lots of it. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a blonde female lieutenant approaching him. He didn't recognize her, but then again he was new and had only seen a few people on the tour.

Harriet stopped and introduced herself, "Hello, sir. My name is Lieutenant Harriet Sims, can I help you?"

Stark yawned and smiled a sleepy smile, "Yes, Lieutenant. I was wondering where the coffee machine is. I'm suffering from some really bad jet lag. Oh and the name is Commander David Stark, Royal Canadian Navy."

Harriet pointed towards the break room. "Coffee's through there. You must be the Exchange officer we're expecting."

Stark nodded, "Yep, that's me."

Petty Officer Coates appeared. "Excuse me Commander, but the Admiral wants to see you and Colonel Mackenzie in his office."

"Thank you Petty Officer." Stark turned to Harriet, "I guess the coffee will have to wait. See you later Lieutenant."

"Goodbye, sir."

Stark gave the break room one last wistful look and headed for the Admiral's office, grumbling as he went."

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"At ease Colonel, Commander." Chegwidden commanded. He sat down at his desk and gestured for the others to do the same. "Cmdr. Stark, you look like hell."

Stark managed to stifle a yawn, "Jet lag, sir."

Chegwidden nodded and handed each other officers a file. "We have a situation down in Alameda. The base CO, Captain Reeves was found dead, sitting at his desk with a letter opener in his back."

"Murder sir?" Stark sat up straighter in his seat. There was a glimmer in his eye that had been absent a moment ago.

Chegwidden continued, "He was discovered by his yeoman Petty Officer Janice Lynch and another officer, a Lieutenant Alexander Carlson. The Executive Officer, Lieutenant Commander Ralph Haines will give you all the details on site." He turned towards Stark. "Commander, your last CO has been repeatedly commended you on your investigative skills. Consider this a chance to make your bones. Dismissed."

"Commended on your investigative skills?" Mac asked when they had left the office.

"Yeah, I did a fair bit of investigative work in Ottawa. My CO became impressed with my ability to work out problems." He let out a chuckle, "This one time…" He paused, "Wait a second." Stark had a horror-stricken look on his face.

"What?" Mac asked.

"Alameda. That's in California isn't it?"

"Yes." Mac was starting to wonder where he was going with this.

Stark groaned, "That's all I need, worse jet lag."

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Alameda Naval Air Station

Alameda, California

1400 hrs local

Two flights, a three-hour layover, nine hours and a dozen cups of coffee later, Stark and Mac had arrived at Alameda and were currently being led around the crime scene by Lt. Cmdr. Haines.

"The Forensics team has already cleared the room. We're awaiting the results." Haines explained.

"You said the victim was found sitting in his chair at his desk, with his body leaning over it." Mac said.

"Yes, Lt. Carlson and PO Lynch found him. Lt. Carlson had come by for a meeting with the Captain. PO Lynch had just announced him using the intercom, when they heard a man screaming from the other side of the door. They tried to open the door, but it had been dead-bolted. They broke the door down and found the victim in this position. That was when I arrived on the scene. The strange thing is that other than the victim there was no one else in the room. There are no windows in here and the door had been locked from the inside. On top of which, PO Lynch was at her desk all night and she hadn't seen anyone else enter. So the mystery is this: how did the killer get in and how did they leave?"

While Mac had been taking all this in, Stark had been looking intently at the late Captain Reeves' desk. "You didn't find any blood anywhere else?" He asked.

Haines shook his head, "No, the forensics team only found blood on the chair and desk." He looked at his watch, "Look if there's nothing else, then I have an appointment to keep, I have to report to Washington and then take a red-eye back here."

"That's all right." Mac said, "My partner and I would just like to go over the scene and then we'd like to question Lt. Carlson and PO Lynch ourselves."

"They'll be made available to you." And with that Lt. Cmdr. Haines left.

Mac approached her new partner, who was still staring at the desk, deep in thought.

"Something on your mind?" She asked, curious.

Without taking his eyes off the desk, he took a cigar out of his shirt pocket and, after biting off the end, stuck it in his mouth.

"If you were going to stab someone in a chair, how would you do it?" He asked cryptically.

Mac's expression was one of confusion, "I don't follow."

"I'll show you." Stark replied, heading for the outer office and motioning for her to follow. He sat down in PO Lynch's chair, took a pen off the desk and handed it to Mac.

"Stab me." He said.

Mac chuckled to herself. She walked around to the front of the chair and jabbed the end off the pen into Stark's chest.

Stark nodded, "Good, now from behind." He turned the chair so his back was to her. Mac brought her arm around and stabbed Stark in the chest again. Stark turned around with a triumphant smile on his face.

"See my point?"

Mac had a look of awe on her face as it dawned on her. "If Captain Reeves had been sitting in the chair when he was killed, then the wound would be in his chest."

"Right," Stark was nodding his head, with the same triumphant grin plastered all over his face, "Which tells us what?"

"That the body was moved."

"Exactly."

"But if it wasn't in the desk, then where was it? PO Lynch said no one went in or out. I think she'd notice someone dragging a body."

"That still leaves us with the question of how the killer got into the office in the first place, never mind where the victim was killed, or how the killer vanished from the office without a trace." Stark struck a thoughtful pose and then a funny little grin spread across his face. "This really is a fascinating little puzzle isn't it? Boy, this is going to be fun."

Mac rolled her eyes, "I don't believe it. You're actually enjoying this."

Stark gave her a 'well duh' look, "Of course I am. Don't tell me you don't get giddy little thrill out of solving this devious criminal feats."

"No, I get more of a thrill out of seeing the guilty sent away."

The grin on Stark's face wouldn't fade. "Ah, ever the authoritarian. You are most definitely a marine."

"Just what is that supposed to mean?" Mac asked. The tone in which she had asked was harsh, but she had an amused look on her face.

"In my experience marines, indeed any foot soldier has an aggressive and disciplined style. They have been trained to perceive threats and maintain order so they use that training in life as well as on the battlefield. Sometimes it's subdued, but it will always present itself in certain situations."

"What are you, a shrink?" Mac asked.

"No just interested in the field." At this, Stark leaned back his chair, propping his feet against the desk in front of him. He stuck his unlit cigar back in his mouth and began stroking an imaginary beard. "So," He said in thick German accent, "Tell me about your childhood."

Mac laughed, "Come on Sigmund. We've got witnesses to question." She started heading down the hall.

Stark jumped out of his seat. "Ja, ja. Coming Fraülein Colonel." 

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Lt. Carlson sat stiffly in his chair, his face impassive. Mac and Stark took their seats on the opposite side of the table. He confirmed what they already knew. He had heard the scream, broken down the door and had found no one in the room.

"Why were you meeting with Captain Reeves?" Mac asked.

"He had called me and had asked me to bring the latest report from accounting."

"According to personnel, you're in maintenance. Any idea why he wanted you to bring it?"

"No ma'am."

"What was Captain Reeves like? Did he have any enemies that you were aware of?" Stark asked.

Carlson shook his head, "No sir. No enemies to speak of. As for the first question, the Captain was an okay guy. A little overbearing to honest."

"Overbearing," Mac leaned forward in her seat, "In what way?"

"Captain Reeves was a workaholic, ma'am. His job was his life. He was very hands-on. Most of the time, he managed to avoid micromanaging, but sometimes you felt as though someone were constantly looking over your shoulder."

"What did you do with the financial report?" Stark asked.

"Well sir, when I saw the body I dropped it on the desk and forgot about it."

Mac nodded, "Thank you Lieutenant. If we have any more questions, we'll be sure to call on you and please call us if you remember anything else.

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As the pair walked down the hall to the next interrogation room, Mac looked over the evidence inventory that forensics had given her.

"There's no mention of finding that financial report in here. This might shed some light on why the victim was killed."

"You're thinking that the killer took the report and killed the Captain over whatever was on it?" Stark asked, comprehending.

"Exactly." Mac stopped in her tracks. "Do you know what this means?"

"What?"

"This means that the killer had to have returned to the scene in order to steal the report. On top of which, how would they have known about the report at all?"

Stark began to understand and nodded his head in comprehension. "That means whoever the killer is, they're probably pretty well connected to base affairs."

Mac snapped her fingers, "An officer, most likely."

"In that case we'd better tread carefully. We're dealing with someone who knows ever in and out of this base and who is cold blooded enough to stab someone with a dull letter opener. Let tell you, that takes some stones." This wasn't the first time either officer had gone up against an officer or a ruthless killer, but neither enjoyed the prospect.

Mac shook her head. She would not give into fear. "Never mind that now. We'd better question PO Lynch."

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Petty Officer Lynch shifted nervously in her seat, drumming her fingers on the metal table in front of her and looking like she would rather be anyplace other than where she was.

Mac took a seat at the table, while Stark chose to stand off to the side.

PO Lynch told them a story similar to the one they had received from Lt. Carlson. She had been asked to stay late by Captain Reeves. The last time she had seen the Captain alive was when she had returned to his with a set of photocopies that he had wanted, around 2150 hrs. When she left the office, Captain Reeves, as he often did when he did not want to be disturbed, had bolted the door behind her.

Stark started to walk around the table. "And you didn't see anyone enter the office?"

Lynch shook her head, "No sir."

"You didn't leave your desk at any time afterwards?  
"No sir."

Stark came to a stop behind PO Lynch. It was then that he noticed a faint odour in the air. A smell that he recognised.

"You mean you didn't once leave to go to the bathroom or get a cup of coffee?" He took a quick glance at the Petty Officer's hands. "Didn't leave to have cigarette, Petty Officer?"

PO Lynch shook her head emphatically, "No sir!"

Stark walked around the table and sat down.

"Those nicotine stains on your fingers say otherwise, Petty Officer."

PO Lynch looked at her hands and folded them in her lap.

Stark smiled, "Come on. Long shift, workaholic boss. Sometimes you just need something to get you through it."

Mac leaned forward. "Petty Officer, if you have something to add, now is the time."

PO Lynch sighed, "I've been trying to quit. I'm down to one a night now. I have it behind the command post, at 2230 every night."

"How long were you gone?" Mac asked.

"Fifteen minutes, no longer than that, I swear ma'am." Lynch looked desperate now.

Mac smiled and took the younger woman's hand in reassurance.

"It's all right. I believe you."

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Once they were outside the holding facility, Stark lit his cigar. He took a few satisfying puffs.

"At least now we have a possible point time of entry. Now all we have to do, besides figuring out who did it and why, is figure out how they left the room without being noticed."

"Perhaps the killer left while the Petty Officer was having her cigarette."

Stark blew a cloud of smoke into the air and shook his head, "Not unless the Captain came back to life and locked the door again." He gazed into the sun that was now beginning to set. "It's getting late," He observed, "Maybe it's time, as Hercule Poirot said, 'to rest our little grey cells'."

Mac nodded, "Good idea. I'm getting hungry."

"Ah yes." Stark grinned, "Commander Rabb told me to anticipate your appetite, Colonel."

"Did he now?" Mac asked, letting out a scoff.

Stark laughed and threw his cigar away, "Yes he did."

"I'll have to deal with him when we get back."

"Well until then, come on. There has got to be at least on decent restaurant in this town, and I refuse to rest until we find it."

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Mac was up at the crack of dawn. She had stretched and gone for her ten mile run, as was her custom in the morning. She had returned, showered and dressed in her uniform by 0713. She made her way next door to where Stark was staying and rapped her knuckles lightly against the door. When she got no response, she knocked louder. Again no response. She banged her fist against the door.

"WHAT?" Someone on the other side of the door shouted. It was so loud that Mac jumped. She heard the sounds of rustling about, followed by stentorian footsteps as some made there way to door, shouting, "It is seven in the goddamned morning!" The door swung open and a thoroughly irate Commander Stark stood on the other side, still shouting, "Someone had better be dead or…" Realising who it was, Stark froze in mid-sentence. All the anger drained from his body and he began to look very embarrassed.

"Yes," Mac curtly replied, "Some is dead, in case you forgotten. Now we have an investigation to complete; and since I was placed in charge, I am ordering you to have yourself squared away in fifteen minutes."

Stark bowed his head in embarrassment. "Yes. I apologise Colonel. I'm…not a morning person. Especially when I'm travelling."

This was enough to cause Mac to soften up. "I understand." She gave him a slight grin, "Fourteen minutes." She added.

Stark sighed and shut the door behind him.

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"Colonel, Commander," Lt. Cmdr. Haines got up from his desk to stand at attention, "What can I do for you? How's you investigation progressing?"

Mac took a seat in front of the Commander's desk. "The investigation is progressing quite well and we were wondering if you could give us a little more information about what was in the financial report that Capt. Reeves ordered Lt. Carlson to bring to him."

Haines leaned back in his chair and breathed a sigh. "Well, ma'am, I honestly I couldn't say. But I will tell you this much: this was not that unusual an occurrence for the Captain."

"What do you mean?" Stark asked.

"Well, Commander, the Captain comes from a long line of bankers and accountants, all of whom kept their own books. The Captain did the same. The Captain has only been here a couple of months; but in those few months he has been here, every Friday night at midnight, going over the books, making sure that everything was going where it was supposed to go. This weekend, for some reason he ordered Lt. Carlson to bring the report to him."

"Lt. Carlson wasn't even in the accounting department. Why would Capt. Reeves have him bring the report to him?"

Haines let out a helpless chuckle. "I haven't the faintest idea."

"Could we have a copy of the latest financial report?" Mac asked, "It may contain a clue as to why the Captain was murdered."

Haines nodded, "Certainly." A few minutes and a few orders later, Haines presented them with a copy of the report. "Good luck."

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"I'm willing to bet that if this guy was an obsessive bookkeeper, that he kept his own copies." Mac suggested as she drove the jeep she and Stark had requisitioned across the base.

"You think we should check his files?" Stark asked.

"Where else would he keep them?" Mac asked, turning them in direction of the command post.

Mac and Stark ducked under the yellow tape and made their way across the room to the pair of filing cabinets, which stood behind the Captain's desk. Mac opened the first drawer and removed some files.

"They're all financial reports." She said. She took notice of the shorthand that had undoubtedly been written on the reports by Captain Reeves.

"Bookkeeping wasn't the only the thing Captain Reeves obsessed about." She observed. Her eyebrows knitted together as she frowned and looked her partner. "You smell that?" She asked.

Stark inhaled deeply and winced. "It's coming from here." He said, reaching into the filing cabinet drawer.

Mac recognized the smell. "It smells like…"

Stark withdrew his arm holding a white towel stained a dark crimson.

"Blood." He finished.

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While Mac reported into Lt Cmdr. Haines, Stark took the towel to the lab. When he returned he found Mac busily going over the financial reports. Stark collapsed into the armchair in Mac's motel room. "Lab results are back. The blood on the towel is Captain Reeves' and there was one unknown sample, which means we may have our killer's DNA; but unfortunately, we don't have enough to compel a sample from anyone, yet."

Mac didn't reply, far to busy trying to decode the late Captain Reeves' shorthand.

"Any luck?" Stark asked.

Mac leaned back in her chair. "Some. The shorthand is actually fairly straightforward. As near as I can figure, Reeves was beginning to notice that someone was diverting funds into outside accounts. Take a look at this." She said, pointing at a column in the report.

Stark walked over to the desk and began to read over her shoulder. "What am I looking at?"

"This is a list of the money coming into the base. This sheet on the left is the local invoice and this is the invoice that was sent from the base. The money ordered and sent to this base a thousand dollars more than the invoices say was received. Basically there has been an extra thousand dollars sent to this base every month, that has just vanished."

"How come no one noticed this before?" Stark asked.

"Well, the invoices that were sent back claim that just as much money as was sent was received, but the internal memos come up one thousand dollars short every time. My guess is that since all the paperwork anyone received matched up, there didn't seem to be anything to investigate. But Reeves went a step further and decided to double-check all the reports. He began to suspect that someone was siphoning off funds."

"How come he never reported it?" Stark asked.

"Reported what? Something would probably be declared nothing more than a computer error?" Mac tossed the report on the desk, "These records go back months. God only knows how long this has been going on." Mac rubbed her tired eyes, "What have you come up with?"

Stark went back to his armchair and sat down. "Well I think I know what the towel was doing in the filing cabinet."

"What?"

"Well, stabbings are messy, right?"

"Of course."

"And nothing draws attention to someone like fresh blood on their hands, right?"

"Right."

"So you would want to wipe it of so you could get rid of it, or at least enough of it, so it wouldn't be as noticeable."

"But why was the towel in the filing cabinet?" Mac asked.

"Well a bloody towel is just as incriminating as bloody hands, so I'd say our killer hid it there, so it wouldn't be found. I'm guessing they didn't expect us to check the filing cabinets." Stark removed his glasses and began to clean them, "This suggests planning. I think the letter opener was used to make the crime look like a spur of the moment action so we would be distracted. But our killer had the foresight to bring a towel with him."

Stark readjusted his glasses, "What about this embezzlement? I'm pretty sure not just anyone could pull off a caper like this."

"You'd be right." Mac replied, "Something like this could only have been pulled off by a member of the accounting department." Something occurred to her, "Maybe that's why Reeves asked Carlson to bring the latest report to him. He wanted to get it from someone who could be trusted." Mac turned and noticed that Stark had his eyes closed. Suddenly he leapt up and grabbed the telephone in the room.

"Who are you calling?"

Stark ignored her. "Lt Cmdr Haines please…Commander, we've made break in the case. We've looked over the report and we're wondering if you knew if Captain Reeves kept any spare copies of the reports he received…Well could you meet us at his office in say half an hour and show us where they are? Thank you." And with that he hung up the phone and turned to Mac who was sending him a piercing stare.

"I know who killed him and how they got away with it."

"Well how, then?" Mac asked.

"This is very important. When you informed Haines about the bloody towel, did you mention the reports?"

"No. I figured we should wait until there was something to report."

Stark headed for the door, "Good, then we can catch him."

"Who?"

"I'll explain on the way to the Command Post. If I'm correct, I suspect that we have very little time within to trap our killer."

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A lone figure made his way to Captain Reeves' office. Since all the staff had gone home for the night, he had no difficulty. He ducked under the yellow tape and, walking softly through the darkened office, opened the file cabinet drawer. He found them empty.

"Damn it. Where are they?"

Suddenly the light switched on, and Mac and Stark stood in the doorway.

"Hello, Cmdr Haines." Mac greeted him.

Haines turned around. "Hello Colonel, Commander. You're early."

"As are you." Stark replied.

Haines gestured towards the filing cabinet. "I was just looking for those reports you mentioned."

Mac held up the spreadsheets. "You mean these. We already found them and read them. They made for very interesting reading. You've got some problems in your department Commander."

"You suspect someone in accounting." Haines asked, starting to get nervous.

Stark shook his head, "Not someone in accounting. You."

Haines laughed. "Me?"

"Yes. You see I doubt very much if someone who is head of their department would miss something like this. Either you're very sloppy at your job or you are responsible for this embezzlement that Captain Reeves was investigating."

Haines shook his head, "I'm sorry you've lost me. Embezzlement?"

Mac nodded, "Yes. You've been ordering extra funds. Since, as chief financial officer, you handle all the requisitions, it was easy. You didn't expect your new captain to go snooping and that's when you decided to kill him."

Haines laughed harshly, "This is ridiculous. I had just arrived when Lt. Carlson and PO Lynch discovered the body."

Stark shook his head, "No, actually you were inside the office. You knew that PO Lynch was a creature of habit so you knew exactly when she would take her cigarette. When she left her desk, you snuck into the Command Post, and started talking with Reeve's when his back was turned you stabbed him from behind. You dragged his body and propped it on his desk. You wiped the blood off you hands and stowed it with the files, not then realizing that those files were the evidence that Reeves was piling against you. Then you waited until you could hear voices on the other side of the room. Then you cried out. Since the door was locked, as you made sure to lock it back up again, Lt. Carlson had to break it down. When Carlson and Lynch entered, they saw the Captain's body at his desk and rushed over to him while you hid in the corner of the office, unnoticed. You moved over to the doorway and acted as though you had just arrived on the scene. You had every intention of retrieving the towel, but with the crime scene investigators, our investigation and being called out to Washington, you never had the chance."

Haines remained smug, "A very good theory, but impossible to prove."

Mac shook her head. "Not quite, we have nothing to tie you to the crime yet, but these reports are more than enough to compel a DNA sample from you and your staff. There were two types of blood found on the towel, what are willing to bet that the second type is yours?" Mac reached over and grabbed Haines' hand to reveal the cut on the palm. "My guess is that he bit you when you used you hand to cover his mouth while you stabbed him."

Haines sighed. His shoulders fell.

"You ever hear of the story of Tantalus?" He asked. "A man was condemned to spend eternity stuck in a hole, with a tree, whose fruit is always just out of reach. Millions of dollars go through here each year…go through my hands and I can't lay claim to any of it." He shook his head. "I thought I found a way…and then that damned fool Reeves interfered."

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Mac and Stark made their way through the crowded airport.

"It's amazing what some people will do for money." Mac remarked.

Stark nodded his head in agreement. "What are you going to do when you get back?" He asked.

"Report to the Admiral and catch up on the work that has probably found it's way to my desk, while I was away. Why, what are you doing?"

Stark gave her a big smile. "I am going to do something that I have been unable to do ever since I arrived in this country."

"What's that?" Mac wanted to know.

Stark let out a chuckle. "Sleep." He said.

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Feedback is appreciated and I'm interested in any suggestions on what to do next


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